


December

by CactiEvie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Depression, F/M, Famous!Jughead, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Media causing drama, Minor Character Death, Musician!Jughead, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactiEvie/pseuds/CactiEvie
Summary: Jughead Jones thought he had his life in order. With his music career soaring and the love of his life by his side, he couldn't have wanted for anything more. That was until his father passed away suddenly. His addiction had always been there, under the surface, fighting to get out. When it wins, everything seems to fall apart. But with his old guitar and some truthful song lyrics, maybe Jughead can find peace.





	December

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning! - This story includes dark themes including alcohol addiction/abuse and loss of a parent
> 
> Firstly, I'd like to thank my beautiful girls who have encouraged me every step of the way with this oneshot. I will never stop being thankful to have met the both of you, and I'm incredibly grateful for all the love and support you've given me throughout this writing process. [Cyd](https://shrugheadjonesthethird.tumblr.com/) and [Summer](https://srainebuggie.tumblr.com/) , you two are my girls. Thank you for loving/supporting/editing this. I love you both infinitely 
> 
> Also, this fic is inspired by the song December by Neck Deep. You can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NnQs3EtoqU)
> 
> Hope you enjoy

 

**_Stumbled round the block a thousand times, you missed every call that I tried, So now I’m giving up._ **

 

Jughead set his phone down on the cool metal bars of the green park bench beneath him. He exhaled a deep breath, watching through vacant eyes as the cold air swirled around and evaporated, as if he had blown out a puff of smoke from a cigarette. He shoved his gloved hands back into the pockets of his leather jacket, burying his chin into the top of his collar as a shiver wracked it’s way down his spine. 

 

He had never felt so empty, so alone, so devoid of emotion, so cold. It wasn’t even the frigid chill of the December air that had him feeling this way, but in fact the year long break up that had not only shattered his heart, but his whole being. 

 

He thought back to the events that had lead up to his actions today and instantly felt himself tense again. Why did he torture himself this way?

 

_ Betty Cooper, ex girlfriend of musician, Jughead Jones, spotted getting cosy with close friend, Archie Andrews. The couple were spotted earlier on this week sharing a ‘more than friendly’ hug outside of his apartment. The two of them were later seen getting dinner together and walking back to said apartment with a certain redhead’s arm around the blonde’s shoulders! Swoon!  _

 

_ See pictures below to get the real scoop on this new, scandalous pairing. Do you ship them or are you heartbroken for our beloved, angsty, heartthrob, songwriter? _

 

The pictures were unmistakably his ex girlfriend. His beautiful, perfect ex girlfriend with his ex best friend. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes when he had first seen the article, and even after he read over it again, for probably the thirtieth time that day, he was still in disbelief. Maybe it was dramatic of him, seeing as he hadn’t  spoken to Betty since the day she left, but after that day he didn’t think anything could hurt him more than the sight of her face as she pulled away from him for the final time. He was wrong. His first instinct had been to get out of his apartment as quickly as he could. He felt as if he was suffocating. He needed air. 

 

He walked around the block too many times, so many times in fact that he lost count. His mind was reeling, a thousand thoughts per minute. It wasn’t until he felt completely numb that he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialled her number, and held it to is ear. He didn’t know what he had expected. He wasn’t surprised that it went to voicemail, and he wasn’t surprised when it did the same thing after his next twenty calls. He wanted to hear her voice, he wanted an explanation, that was all. That was all he wanted, and then he would leave her alone forever. 

 

**_A heartbreak in mid December. You don’t give a fuck. You’d never remember me, while you’re pulling on his jeans._ **

 

He still loved her, there was no question about it. If it had been up to him, they would never have broken up. He could barely breathe without her there by his side. He’d been silently choking for the past year and now he felt as if any oxygen that he had managed to desperately grasp, had now been ripped from his lungs. He could still remember the day she left him. How could he ever forget the day that he lost not only her, but himself. 

 

-

 

_ “Babe,” Jughead slurred, slamming the front door to their quaint apartment closed before stumbling down the hall. He knocked into the coat rack on the way, instantly cursing and bursting into a fit of laughter. “Babe, I’m home,” he called out in a sing-song tone. With great difficulty, he rounded the corner into their living room, scanning the room for any signs of the blonde he was searching for. When he came up empty, he let out a dramatic groan and walked over to the couch, flopping down onto the cushions before becoming deadweight.  _

 

_ He didn’t remember much after that, but he was fairly certain he passed out for god knows how long. His eyes felt heavy, begging him to go back to sleep, but the persistent shaking of his left shoulder forced them to open with a low groan.  _

 

_ “I’m asleep,” he murmured. _

 

_ “Jug, I need you to wake up,” a timid voice came from the person standing in front of him. He meant to answer, he really did, but his eyes fell closed again. “Jughead,” the voice came again with a sterner tone.  _

 

_ He didn’t respond again. _

 

_ “Jughead Jones, answer me right now…” her voice cracked with a wrenching sob. His eyes flying open at the sound of her broken voice. His eyes fell to her tear stained face and then down to the black handle of her suitcase that she was gripping on to so tightly, as if it were her lifeline.  _

 

_ “I’m leaving,” she breathed. _

 

_ “What?” he choked out. “What do you mean, leaving for where?” _

 

_ “I’m going to my Mom’s while I look for apartments,” she told him in a whisper. _

 

_ “You’re leaving...me?” he questioned, slowly pushing himself up. “Why?”  _

 

_ “Because I can’t handle this anymore. You come home drunk nearly every night. You fall asleep on the couch, sleep all morning, and then you’re gone again by the time I go to work. I know you lost your dad, Juggie, and I know how much it hurts, but you’re so distant from me and I don’t know what to do anymore.” Her words were truthful, but they didn’t hurt any less.  _

 

_ Tears cascaded down her cheeks in time with her soft sobs. “I think...I think we need to be apart. You need to get help and I can’t be around this anymore. I love you, so much, Jug. I would do anything for you, but I can feel you slipping away…” _

 

_ He moved from his position on the couch and stood in front of her, bringing his hands up to her face tentatively. “Betty, please,” he whispered. His own eyes began to tear, holding on to her in case she disappeared. “Please don’t go, please,” he begged with a clear urgency. “I-I need you, I can’t do this without you. I’ll change, I promise I’ll change.” His words came out in broken sobs now, his chest shuttering each time he sucked in a breath. “I love you.” _

 

_ Her expression showed the hesitation. She was considering it and he prayed to God that she would stay, that she would trust him enough not to leave like everyone else in his life already had. The seconds ticked by and he was certain time froze as he waited for her answer. No matter how many prayers he sent, no matter how many gods he believed in, no matter how much he promised he would fix himself, it wasn’t enough. _

 

_ “I can’t,” she decided, finally pulling away from his gentle touch. “It’s better this way, we need time apart,” she told him with a slight nod. “Please take care of yourself, for me.”  _

 

_ It seemed she was battling within herself, a thousand emotions passing through her eyes in mere moments. She stepped forward and pressed the lightest of kisses to his forehead before pulling away for the final time.  _

 

_ He couldn’t quite believe it as the door closed behind her. He stood there, empty and broken. If he looked down, he was convinced he would see his heart laying there at his feet, because Betty Cooper had just reached into his chest, ripped it out and left him to bleed to death. _

 

_ - _

 

After that article was released, he couldn’t stop picturing it. Betty-- his ex, his best friend, the love of his life, his  _ soulmate _ \-- in the arms of his other best friend. The three of them had always been close, they grew up together, but never in a million years would he have imagined Betty and Archie would end up together. While the photos didn’t explicitly show them doing anything further than hugging, he couldn't help but feel like tight curl of jealousy claw its way through his chest and rear its ugly head at the surface.

 

Betty and Archie had always been as close, but never anything more than friends. It had always been about Jughead and Betty, and Archie and Veronica. Now though, now, he couldn’t stop imagining the two of them together, hugging, holding hands, kissing, Betty’s small hands pulling on his jeans. Archie’s hands splayed across her skin, just like his used to. They hadn’t spoken in over a year now, but he felt betrayed nonetheless. 

 

He didn’t move away from that green park bench for what seemed like hours. It didn’t matter that his fingers were numb, that he could no longer feel his face, all that mattered was her, and the fact he would never have her again. His life, his love, his everything.

 

It wasn’t until he saw the first light of the morning across the park that he finally got to his feet again. He stumbled back to his apartment, the feeling oddly familiar, though this time his legs were numb from the cold instead of alcohol. Would Betty even care about his progress? Would she be proud of the fact that he hadn’t touched a bottle in six months now? Did she even think about him anymore?

 

**_I was looking out our window, watching all the cars go, wondering if I’ll see Chicago, or a sunset on the West Coast. Or will I die in the cold, feeling blue and alone?_ **

 

He set down his keys when he finally found his way back to his apartment. His. Formerly  _ theirs _ . Every day since she left he had missed her, but today was something else. He hadn’t seen her in so long, he hadn’t touched her, heard the sound of her voice or kissed her in God knows how long. He yearned for her.

 

He slowly made his way to the large bay window in the living room, sitting down at the seat and sliding it open to let in the cold breeze. His hands shook from the icy breeze, but he ignored it as he tugged out his pack of cigarettes from the top pocket of his Sherpa jacket. He looked down at the box in his hand, turning it over again and again. Was smoking any less of an addiction than drinking? Would Betty still be disappointed?

 

He let out a sigh and set the pack down, leaning his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. It was times like these when he wanted to drink the most. He wanted to walk into that kitchen, grab the old bottle of vodka and drink until he couldn’t remember any of this the next morning. 

 

He wouldn’t lie, he considered it for a few moments. Nobody would know, nobody had to know. Betty certainly didn’t care, his father was gone and his best friend? Well, he knew what his best friend was doing, or  _ who  _ he was doing in fact. Maybe just one…

 

But then there she was again. Betty. He couldn’t do it to her, no matter how much he wanted to. She was the one who left, she was the one who had moved on, why couldn’t he just forget?

 

He dragged his fingers through his hair and tugged a little, letting out a groan of frustration. He needed to release this emotion somehow, he needed to get it all down, write it all out on paper. It was then that he remembered what he had been told in his AA meetings-- to confide in something non-destructive instead of turning to drinking. So that’s when he did the only thing he knew how to do.

 

He wrote a song.

 

**_I wonder if you’ll ever hear this song on your stereo_ **

 

_ Ever since he was eleven years old, Jughead had a passion for music. He listened to it through his dad’s crappy old headphones, drowning out the sound of his parents arguing. He fell in love with artists who died before he was born and over time, he found himself not only relating to the lyrics they sang, but wanting to write his own. These musicians wrote songs of broken homes and depression, and he knew better than anyone what this was like. He found himself in the music, writing down lyrics on the back of unpaid bills that his parents threw away. He found himself wishing every birthday for a guitar, promising his parents that he would find a way to pay for his own lessons, but it never happened. _

 

_ By the time he was fifteen, the stacks of used paper in his room was immense. He wrote out his feelings, it was all he knew. Every time he had a bad day, he wrote. When he had good days with no shouting parents and a family dinner that didn’t result in a plate being thrown, he wrote. Even on the days he took his sister to the park and embraced the chill of the winter air, he wrote. When his sixteenth birthday rolled around he was hopeful. He was sixteen now, maybe his parents would trust him more and finally let him fulfill his passion, but the morning came too soon and he was left another year disappointed. _

 

_ He visited Archie’s house as he usually did on his birthday. Their tradition of going to a double feature at the Bijou, coming back to his house, having pizza and playing video games in full swing. He was surprised though, when he opened the door to his red-headed friend’s home and saw Betty standing there with the brightest grin on her face.  _

 

_ “Happy birthday, Jug!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug immediately. He accepted the embrace gratefully, melting into her touch momentarily before they finally stepped away. _

 

_ “Thanks, Betty. What are you doing here?”  _

 

_ “Well, I knew you and Arch would be going to the Bijou, as usual, so I thought I’d come over to give you your birthday present!” she explained, clapping her hands together excitedly.  _

 

_ “Oh...you didn’t have to get me anything, really Bet-” he didn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before she was waving away his words, grabbing his hand, and leading him into the lounge.  _

 

_ There, in the middle of the room, stood the most beautiful acoustic guitar with a blue bow wrapped around the neck. It was clearly second hand, scratches evident and fretboard worn, but he was in love. He looked to Betty and then to the guitar, and back to her. “Betty, you really didn’t have to,” he breathed.  _

 

_ “I did have to! You love writing so much, and Arch saw this in the music store and I couldn’t turn down the opportunity,” she insisted. “It’s second-hand and a little battered and bruised, but I think it’s war wounds give it more personality,” she smiled brightly, turning to her raven haired friend. “But really, is it okay?” _

 

_ His head whipped around to meet hers, a scoff escaping him. “Of course, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. Thank you, thank you so much,” he breathed, pulling her into another tight embrace. He had never been an affectionate person, not at all, but for Betty that might have changed.  _

 

_ That was the day he fell in love with her _

 

_ - _

 

_ “Betty,” he called, rushing through the apartment to their living room with the brightest smile on his face. His eyes found purchase on his girlfriend sat by the window with her laptop. Their gazes met across the room and her face lit up immediately as she saw his expression. _

 

_ “Was that them? What did they say?” she asked instantly, her excitement matching his.  _

 

_ “My album, it hit number one in the charts!” he exclaimed happily, unable to wipe the smile from his face.  _

 

_ “Oh my God! Really? Jug, that’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.” Betty was quick to set down her laptop, making her way over to her boyfriend swiftly. Her arms wrapped around his torso and his arms embraced her in return. “I knew you could do it, I told you everyone would love it just as much as I do!” _

 

_ He buried his face into her hair as he let out a relieved sigh. “I know you did, I was just so worried,” he murmured, pressing several kisses to the top of her head. _

 

_ Betty lifted her head to look at him, the smile still prominent on her face. “Well, you clearly had nothing to worry about,” she whispered, bringing her hand up to his cheek delicately. “So what does this mean? What happens next?” _

 

_ “A second album, a tour, anything. There’s so much to look forward to and it’s only just beginning. Back to LA, back to recording,” he informed with the brightest grin.  _

 

_ “That’s so amazing, I’m so, so proud of you, babe.”  _

 

_ He shook his head immediately, holding her tighter as he spoke. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Betty. I never would’ve gotten anywhere if it weren’t for you.” She began to shake her head in return, opening her mouth to respond until his finger came over her lips. “Don’t even try and argue,” he breathed. “If it weren’t for that guitar you bought me, I wouldn’t be here at all. I love you, so much,” he whispered sincerely, leaning down to press their lips together as he brought his finger away from her lips.  _

 

_ The kiss was quickly reciprocated, and he was soon lifting her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist with ease. “How about we celebrate?” he muttered, pulling away from their kiss with a grin. Her bright laugh only made his smiled grow, her hands in his hair as he began to back them towards their bedroom.  _

 

**_I wish I’d known that less is more, but I was passed out on the floor. That’s the last thing I remember, it’s been a long lonely December._ **

 

His second world tour was in full swing, travelling to a new city nearly every day, playing sold out shows to people who knew every single lyric to every single song off his two albums. He was a star now, there was no denying that. He was photographed by paparazzi wherever he went, his privacy diminished, save for the comfort of his apartment back home and the hotel rooms he lived in during the tour. No matter how much his fame grew though, he never forgot  his roots. He never forgot about the girl who jump started this journey, the girl that stood at the side stage every single night and beamed so bright he was convinced it lit up the entire arena.

 

His second tour was different though. Throughout the length of his first tour, his fame had continued to grow and grow. It was the first time that either of them had experienced fame fully, and there were a couple of times that security had slipped, resulting in fans finding his hotel room. It was a hell of a lot to handle mentally, and when his next tour got booked, he and Betty were soon agreeing that she should stay home. He knew that she worried for his safety, but being constantly on edge was not good for Betty’s anxiety. He knew that better than anyone. 

 

Today marked three months since he left their tiny New York apartment. He missed Betty more and more each day, the shows distracting him for a time, but not distracting enough. He had been in Europe for a month now, and with the time zone changes, it was becoming increasingly more difficult for the couple to stay in touch every single day. When they did finally get around to calling , the smiles never left their faces as they relayed each and every detail about their days.

 

He sat in his empty hotel room, typing away in response to emails on his laptop. It had only just hit 9am, and he knew that Betty wouldn’t be awake for a few hours yet. He enjoyed these times in the morning before his shows, having time to himself to write more music. His first album had flown off the shelves and topped the charts, leaving him, Betty and his record label astonished. It was extremely rare that a new artist blew up like this so quickly. He felt the pressure more than ever now, to work on his music and bring something bigger and better to his fans. 

 

The sound of his phone buzzing beside his laptop was unusual. He knew he wasn’t due at tonight’s venue for at least another few hours and Betty certainly wouldn’t be awake just yet. He didn’t recognise the number either, but pressed the green answer button before holding the phone to his ear.

 

The next words he heard left him distraught.

 

-

 

_ “Mm Jug?” Betty’s tired voice sounded from the other end of the phone. “It’s 4am, why are you calling?” she muttered sleepily. It was the sad sniff at the other end of the phone that had her sitting up immediately, panic rising instantly. “Jug. What is it? What’s wrong?”  _

 

_ The silence stretched on for a few moments until he finally found the courage to speak. “It’s my dad,” he whispered, his voice cracking briefly. “He had a heart attack, and he-he didn’t make it.” _

 

_ “Jug,” she whispered gently. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here, baby,” she promised sincerely, any sense of previous sleepiness gone completely. “I’m so sorry, Love.You can cry, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” _

 

_ Sobs emitted from his throat immediately, unable to control them as he took in the news fully. His father was gone, forever. Sure, he wasn’t winning any awards for World’s Best Dad, but he was still his dad. Betty’s kind words helped, but he couldn’t help the wave of emotions that came over him in that moment. He had never had the best relationships with his father, but over time things had started to heal. Perhaps he wasn’t crying for the memories of his now deceased dad, but all the memories that could have been. That should have been.  _

 

_ “How am I supposed to play tonight? How can I go on stage and act happy when he’s gone?” he asked through a cry.  _

 

_ “Can you cancel, Jug? I’m sure your managers would understand if you explained the situation--” _

 

_ “And what about all the fans that paid to see me?” he breathed shakily.  _

 

_ “They’ll understand, too. Call your managers, tell them what happened and they’ll issue a statement, and we’ll write a proper one in a few days, yeah?” she encouraged. “Go call them and then call me back, okay? I’ll get a flight out as soon as I can.” _

 

_ “No, Betts, you don’t need to come out here,” he insisted. “I’ll be okay, I just needed to talk to you.” _

 

_ “I know you’ll be okay, but I’m still coming out there. We need to be together right now, okay? I’ll look for flights while you call your team,” she told him with such care in her tone. “I love you.” _

 

_ “I love you, too,” he whispered before ending the call. He felt numb all over. Any other time he would have been excited about finally getting to see Betty after three months, but even the tiniest hint of happiness had no chance of outshining the shadow grief he felt for his father. _

 

-

 

He didn’t call her back, it was as simple as that. He already felt bad for cancelling his show that evening. He could only hope that Betty had fallen back asleep whilst waiting for his call. He turned off his phone, threw it into the drawer, grabbed his wallet and left the hotel room without a second thought. 

 

Perhaps it was ironic that he was taking after his father so soon after his death, downing shot after shot at the almost empty bar. It was now eight, and he hadn’t stopped drinking since he arrived there a few hours earlier. He just wanted to forget, he wanted to numb the pain with the alcohol and maybe, just maybe, he would wake up and this would all be some sort of crazy fever dream that they could laugh about later.

 

The drinks kept coming, one after the other until he was asked to leave at around 8. He muttered disgruntledly, stumbling out of the bar and back to his hotel room, narrowly avoiding a car on the street. He fumbled with his key card in the elevator, trying desperately to pull it from his pocket as he staggered down the hall to his room. It wasn’t until he nearly tripped over a blonde figure sat by his door, that he finally looked up.

 

“Betty,” he gulped. “What are you doing here?”

 

From what he could see, the blonde got to her feet in front of him. His vision was blurred and grainy, and a small part of him was convinced he was seeing double.

 

“I told you I was coming, Jug,” she said quietly. “Have you been drinking? You smell like a brewery and you’re walking funny,”

 

“No!” he exclaimed, slightly louder than he intended. He had never been one to drink, not after what it did to his Dad and family, but maybe in some weird, twisted way, he felt closer to his father in this wasted form. “No,” he repeated again a little quieter. “Well...maybe just a little.”

 

“Jug,” she breathed, taking another step towards him before reaching for his hand. He flinched away on instinct, his expression unreadable as a hundred emotions filtered through his eyes. “Let me help you.” Her voice sounded hoarse and desperate, but he had no fight left in him. He handed her the keycard before following after her into the room. 

 

She guided him over to the couch, ordering him to stay put while she got water, a cold cloth for his head and a garbage can, in case any of that alcohol decided to make his stomach churn. She left him there on the worn, leather couch, and for him it felt like an eternity. He didn’t like this feeling, the feeling of slowly becoming more and more sober as the minutes passed by. Maybe she wouldn’t notice if he just had one more drink. 

 

He got to his feet and attempted to stumble in the bedroom, knowing there was bound to be some sort of alcohol in the mini fridge. In that moment, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that it would be ridiculously overpriced. He managed to stagger down the hall until he reached the doorway, his foot catching on the edge of the carpet. 

 

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of the fluffy carpet against his cheek, and the bliss that came with finally letting sleep take over.

 

**_Cast me aside to show yourself in a better light. I came out grieving, barely breathing, and you came out alright. But I’m sure you’ll take his hand, I hope he’s better than I ever could have been._ **

 

The drinking didn’t relent. It was the only way he found himself at peace with the passing of his father. He didn’t know how else to cope. For a time, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about himself, for his career, for Betty, for anything. All he cared about was the burn of alcohol down his throat. Every day seemed to blur into one, not that it mattered. He cancelled the rest of his tour dates after that, resulting in him falling off the face of the earth. He didn’t post on social media, he didn’t explain anything to his fans or family, all that mattered was the bottle.

 

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Betty left him. They had been slipping further and further apart since his dad passed, and it wasn’t until he lost her completely that he realised the mistakes he had made. She was the only person he had left, and now she was gone forever. 

 

\--

 

The road to recovery was long, painful, and full of relapses. The first six months consisted of climbing the pedestal to sobriety, and falling back off whenever things would get difficult again. The meetings helped, but the harrowing feeling of loneliness is what got him most nights. He drank to forget more than anything; to forget his career, his dad, Betty, all of it. 

 

He still remembered the first time the tabloids picked up on his destructive behaviour, even the panic didn’t stop his habits.

 

_ After falling off the face of the Earth, Singer/songwriter, Jughead Jones was spotted several times this week at bars across New York City. It seems after his split with high school sweetheart, Betty Cooper, the musician not only said goodbye to his relationship, but his music career, too. We reached out to the infamous ex, but she refused to comment. _

 

It wasn’t long before the tabloids were on to him, trying their hardest to get him to comment on their articles, but no matter how many were released, or however many paparazzi bombarded him on the street or in the store, he was always silent. He was sane enough to know ranting about the loss of his girlfriend and father would not get him anywhere. 

 

The first six months were hell, that was the best way to describe it. Some days were good, and he felt like he was finally getting his old self back, but he was quick to remember his dad and how he never got to say goodbye. He remembered Betty, the woman he loved so dearly, and would rightfully never see again. He deserved to lose her, he had taken advantage of what they had and now he was paying for it. 

 

It wasn’t until around the six month mark that he slowly began to feel a difference. He had to stop this. He had to get his life back and go back to what he loved. His sponsor suggested he found something to distract himself from the drinking, to find a passion and throw himself into it. So he went back to his roots, to the only thing he knew how to do, he wrote. 

 

That brought him to now, to the window seat of his living room, the pen in his hand and the half written sheet of lyrics. It seemed ironic that the first inspiration he had in over a year came from his ex girlfriend moving on from him, but all the advice was right, it was distracting him from that once destructive behaviour. 

 

For the first time since their break-up, he stopped resenting Betty. He finally saw why she had to go. He hated himself for what he had put her through, and truthfully, if Archie was the one to make her happy then he wasn’t angry. He’d have given anything to be the one to make her happy, but it just wasn’t meant to be.

 

_**My mistakes were not intentions, This is a list of my confessions I couldn’t say** _

 

The lyrics seemed to flow like water gushing from a faucet, he just couldn’t stop them. He poured his heart out onto the paper, and before he knew it he was recording the sound in his little apartment studio. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking straight, perhaps this was as destructive as the drinking was, but surely it was healthier? Writing the music was one thing, but releasing it to the world, that was another.

 

He sat down at his kitchen table, running his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t slept in over 36 hours, but the exhaustion meant nothing to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed up this long without alcohol being a main factor of the equation. He logged into his twitter account for the first time in over a year, not even taking the time to read any of the thousands of notifications that had built up over time. Instead, he copy and pasted the link and sent it out. No caption, no following words, just the song in its rawest form. 

 

It wasn’t for his fans, for the tabloids to expose. It wasn’t an explanation. It was an apology. An apology to her.

 

-

 

He was surprised that the song blew up like it did. He was contacted by a new tabloid everyday, a new reporter desperate to get his comment on the new, raw acoustic song by the artist whose claim to fame disappeared in a day. Initially, he said no to everyone. He didn’t want to go out there and give them words to twist around into a story that made no sense. He never once intended on the song blowing up, so he acted as if it hadn’t.

 

It wasn’t until a particular radio station reached out to him for his opinion, that he finally agreed to go on to their show and talk. He wasn’t doing it for money or exploitation, he was simply doing it because they promised to play his song on their station. He didn’t want the publicity, the fame, the fans, he just wanted her to hear. He still remembered from the long, late-night drives they would take together on occasion, how the radio would always be tuned to this station. He figured it was his best shot of getting her to hear his words.

 

The day of the interview came and he was less than excited about it. He expected the invasive questions and the rate at which they were fired at him was overwhelming. They had no respect for his privacy at all. He answered them all to the best of his ability, and eventually he was shaking hands with his interviewer and leaving the building swiftly. He didn’t even care what the media made of his words anymore, his song was out there for the world to hear, and that was all that mattered.

 

That night was one of the hardest of his life. He couldn't recall the last time he had wanted to down a bottle so badly. All he could think about was Betty. His Betty. The girl that cared for him when he was sick, the girl that bought him his very first guitar, the girl that supported him through every step of his career. Even when he didn’t feel worthy of the life he had made for himself, she was there to reassure him that he deserved it all. He had thrown all of that away for what? For alcohol? The bitter laugh that escaped him echoed around the empty apartment until he was left in that deafening silence once again. 

 

He dropped down to the floor slowly, his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. He had ruined it all. He was crashing and burning, and the only person that could save him was her. But it was already too late for that. She wasn’t his Betty anymore.

 

**_Pain is never permanent, but tonight it’s killing me_ **

 

**_-_ **

 

There wasn’t a day to go by that she didn’t think about him.

 

Walking out of their apartment that day was truly the hardest thing that Betty had ever done. She cried every night and prayed that he would come to his senses eventually. She missed Jughead with every fibre of her being. Every part of her ached for his touch, for his arms around her again and his lips against her temple as they drifted off to sleep, but each paparazzi photo that was released of him broke her heart more each time.

 

She moved in with Archie and Veronica, as much as she protested, but her best friends insisted. Her initial plan had been to stay with her mother whilst looking for apartments to rent, but when Veronica pointed out that living with Alice again would have driven her positively crazy, she found herself agreeing to move in with the couple fairly quick. Jughead cut himself off from them entirely, and she couldn’t say she was surprised. In the last few months of their relationship, she was certain he was not the same man she had fallen in love with at sixteen. The alcohol had changed him, and as much as she wanted to stay by his side, she couldn’t put herself through the trauma anymore. 

 

Every day she thought about picking up the phone and calling him, to check he was doing okay and not falling into that pattern again. Veronica was her rock. She took the phone from her each time and promised her that when Jughead was ready, he would call. When she would ask her raven haired friend how she knew, she would simply respond with a shrug and a sympathetic smile before telling her “because he loves you.”

 

A year down the line, and it was nowhere near easier to get over her ex boyfriend. She still loved him, of course she did, and it had been a long time since any incriminating photos of him had been released online. She didn’t know whether or not that was a good thing though. Either the press had gotten bored of him, or he had stopped drinking. She could only hope it was the latter option. 

 

The day the photos got released was a bad day. She found herself spiralling into a flood of emotions, and her life felt shattered once again. It seemed that even leaving Jughead didn’t stop the mess that was her life. Memories of him still haunted her every single day. The tabloids got it all wrong, there was nothing going on between her and Archie. Archie had a girlfriend for Christ’s sake, and she had never liked him that way. She still loved Jughead, and always would.

 

The headlines were all wrong, the articles all had fake stories and the missed calls from the only person she truly cared about did not help either. There was a voice in her head that said answer, tell him that none of it is true, tell him that you love him. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t get herself back into that mess with him. If Jughead wasn’t sober and she heard what mess he had gotten himself into, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. 

 

She loved him so much that it was destructive.

 

The picture of Archie hugging her? A friendly embrace after a particularly long day, tears streaming down her face as she thought about Jughead, praying and hoping that he would be okay. Plenty of people would judge her for her decision, and others would say that she was ridiculous for still caring, but she couldn’t help it. She still loved him, she had never fallen out of love with him, but what he was doing to their relationship was breaking her down until she had nothing left. She missed him more than she would oxygen, if her air supply were suddenly cut off, but it was what was best.

 

The picture of Archie’s arm around her shoulders. Again, another friendly gesture. She understood that these things could be misinterpreted easily, but that photo was wrong altogether. What they missed out was Veronica on the other side, their hands joined as they walked down the street together. Whoever had written those articles was out to cause trouble, and she hated them for it.

 

It was all a lie, and she wanted to scream and shout that for the world. Her world.

 

-

 

**_I hope you get your ballroom floor, your perfect house with rose red doors_ **

 

After the photos were released, Betty went silent on all social media. Her laptop remained tucked safely under her bed, her phone remained in the drawer of her bedside table. She didn’t want to hear anymore of this news, she didn’t want to feel her heart clench every time she saw another missed call from  _ him. _

 

Work was even harder than usual. A mountain of paperwork on her desk, her co-workers muttering in the corner and eyeing her from a far, paparazzi on the street ready to bombard her with questions. She wanted to scream at them, tell them all to leave her (and Jughead) alone and let them live in peace, but she knew she couldn’t. They’d only twist it into some sick story to entertain the masses, not caring who they hurt as they do.. 

 

Maybe it was wishful thinking, believing that by the time she left work the paparazzi would have cleared. She swiped her time card and opened the door to the large office building, stepping outside to a mob of flashing cameras and questions flying at her from all directions. No matter which way she turned, they were there, ready and waiting with microphones pointed at her in hopes of just a snippet of information:

 

“Betty, tell us about your new man. Have you spoken to Jughead, does he know?”

 

“Can you tell us about his drinking problem? Is it true you left him because of it?”

 

“Did you know he was going to release that song? Are the lyrics about you?”

 

They all blurred into one, none of the words registering as she pushed past a crowd to stumble towards to parking lot. She tried to cover her face with her hand in a desperate attempt to get herself to safety without being photographed. 

 

Her car. Her car was the only place she could sit safely, calm herself down and drive away. She could hear them following her as she hurried away from their prying eyes, the sound of chatter fading slightly. She rounded the corner and sprinted  towards her car as quickly as she could, to buy herself some time. It didn’t matter that she felt numb, or that the tears streaming down her cheeks made her eyes sting painfully. All that mattered was getting to somewhere she could hide, hide from the harsh truth that was quickly approaching her.

 

She had to talk to him.

 

Betty finally got to her parking space, fiddling with her keys for a few moments as her hands shook with anxiety. She couldn’t handle another hoard of questions being thrown at her. Climbing into the driver's seat, she slumped her head back against the headrest and locked the doors securely. She needed a few minutes to recharge, but the chance of the swarm heading around the same corner in a few moments was highly likely.

 

Her car keys fit into the ignition, and before she could even think twice, she was starting the car and setting off down the street. She knew better than to go straight home. It was likely that the paparazzi would be following her every move, so driving around for a while seemed like her only option. The last thing she wanted was them knowing where she lived. She quickly set a plan into action. She would drive for thirty minutes, then head back in the direction of her apartment, park a couple blocks away and then walk the rest of the way home. It was the best she could do without a full security team to protect her.

 

Betty drove for what felt like an eternity, thoughts swirling through her mind as she thought about everything that had happened in the past few days, her thoughts always coming back to  _ him.  _

 

What was she even doing with her life? Moping around over her ex, never fully moving on. It had been a year already, and she was the one who left him, so why did she feel like this?

 

Because she never stopped loving him, she never could. The harsh reality hit her like a freight train, a gasp shuddering through her suddenly. She knew she still loved him, but the reality of the situation was shocking. She could never stop loving him. 

 

Just like that, her world came crashing down around her. The past year felt like a lie. She had been constantly telling herself that it would get better, that the ache in her heart would eventually ease and one day she could go back to being happy. In reality, she had only ever felt truly happy with Jughead. He made her happy, he made her feel loved and cherished, he made her feel whole -- and when his father died and he turned into a shell of a man, a part of her died, too. 

 

She needed him, but she couldn’t put herself through that pain again, the pain of watching him destroy himself while she stood there, helpless.

 

The battle with her inner demons never eased, it never could, and as her inner turmoil nearly became overwhelming, the soft strum of an acoustic guitar rang from her stereo. She hadn’t even realised it was turned on. Her hand shakily came away from her steering wheel, ready to turn off the song to immerse herself in the deafening silence. Before she could, a gentle voice came from the speakers, the only voice she ever wanted to hear.

 

She was left speechless as Jughead’s voice filled her ears, tears welling in her eyes instantly, overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. The lyrics hit her instantly, her breath catching in her throat.

 

_ A heartbreak in mid-december _

_ You don’t give a fuck _

_ You’d never remember me _

_ While you’re pulling on his jeans _

 

Those pictures with Archie. Her jaw dropped in realisation and the tears flowed quicker than ever. It pained her to know that he thought she could love someone else, that she could love someone else the same way she had loved him, the same way she still loved him. 

 

She pulled over, unable to focus on the road or any of the cars passing by. She had to calm herself down before she even thought about driving again. If the paparazzi found her now, then she was screwed, but she really couldn’t bring herself to care. All that played on her mind was Jughead. 

 

The sound of his raw, unfiltered voice flowing through the crackling car speakers, right into her ears. He sounded angry, sincere, and sad all at the same time. This was the first she had heard of him since they split. His social media had been dead ever since, no underlining hints of any new music to be seen. This sounded rough, unpolished, like he had recorded it without a second thought. There was something about the pure honesty in his lyrics that made her heart clench. 

 

_ I was looking out our window _

_ Watching all the cars go _

_ Wondering if I’ll see Chicago _

_ Or a sunset on the West Coast _

 

His lyrics made her chest feel tight, as if someone had wrapped a rope around her lungs and kept pulling tighter and tighter. Her thoughts were taken back to a time all those years ago, to the first time he told her that he loved her

 

-

 

_ “You know, you didn’t have to come to Chicago with us, Betts. Not that I don’t want you here, of course. I do, but I know things aren’t the best with your mom at the minute and I didn’t mean to make you feel obligated when I said I felt awkward about being here.” Jughead’s fingers flexed slightly before lacing back with Betty’s a little tighter, bringing his gaze back to hers as they walked through the busy streets of the bustling city. _

 

_ “I know I didn’t have to come, but I wanted to. It’s like...our first little getaway together, Jug. We have to seize these opportunities! When you’re a big superstar musician, you won’t want to come to cities like this with little ol’ me,” She teased him with a gentle smile. “Besides, I needed a break from my mom anyway, but do not let Archie tell her that we’re sharing a bed, she’ll lose her mind.” Her hand carefully let go of his own before wrapping around his bicep and pulling herself closer into his side. _

 

_ A quiet laugh escaped him as he recalled the shocked look on her face when Mary Andrews had showed him and his girlfriend to their room. Singular. He suddenly felt glad that he agreed to accompany his redheaded friend to Chicago for the week.  _

 

_ “We’ll keep it under wraps, I don’t think Mr. Lodge would be too thrilled to hear that Archie and Ronnie are getting to do the same thing,” he murmured, looking down as she came in closer to him. “But...you do know I could never get bored of you, right? Not in a million years. Who else would I stay up until two in the morning with to talk about true crime cases or Tarantino?” he quipped cheekily. _

 

_ She scoffed at his words and pinched his arm playfully, looking up at him with the brightest smile known to man. “I hope you keep me around for more than just that!” _

 

_ His head tilted down to face her, their smiles never once fading during their playful banter. _

 

_ “You’re my biggest source of inspiration, my lucky charm. My muse. You’re not going anywhere, Coop,” he smiled, sincerity lacing with his soft tone.  _

 

_ Her heart fluttered from his kind words, squeezing his arm in thanks as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Besides, the chances of my music career going anywhere is very unlikely, so it looks like I’m stuck with you.” It was clear that his words were supposed to be a joke, but she couldn’t stop the way her head whipped up immediately. _

 

_ “What do you mean, Jug?” She asked, her tone full of disbelief as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Of course, it’s going somewhere, you’re an amazing artist.” She stopped them in their tracks, turning to face him fully this time.  _

 

_ A sigh escaped him as he glanced away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m just starting to feel like you’re the only one who thinks that,” he whispered.  _

 

_ Her hand came up to cup his cheek, bringing his gaze back to meet her own. “Of course I’m not the only one that thinks you’re good. What about Archie? And V? They both do. Your dad! He came to your show last week. Your show, Jughead, you played for the entire school and they loved it, so how could you possibly think you’re not good?” _

 

_ Her eyes filled with hurt, the idea of her boyfriend thinking his talent didn’t exist was too painful to bare. Because it did, it definitely existed, and she just knew he was going somewhere someday.  _

 

_ “I sent my demos to a producer,” he whispered. He couldn’t keep it from her, he had never been able to, not that he would ever want to. “He said they were basic, teenage shit,” he admitted finally, a shaky breath escaping him. “I’m not going anywhere, Betty, I should just quit while I’m ahead.” _

 

_ “Don’t you dare,” she breathed. “One producer, that’s it! One! In the whole world, a world full of people that would love to hear you play. Whoever you sent your demos to, well, he’s obviously deaf,” she smiled at the gentle laugh that earned her, before continuing with her speech.  _

 

_ “You’re only seventeen, you have so much time to grow and improve, and already you’re an amazing musician, God knows where you’ll be in another year, or five. I promise, I’m telling you the truth when I say you’re amazing, Juggie. Can you name any talented musician who got famous overnight, because I can’t. It’s all trial and error, but you’ll get there.” _

 

_ His eyes shone with only one emotion, the only emotion he had ever been truly sure of.  _

 

_ “I love you,” he breathed, not a hint of hesitation as he uttered those three words to his girlfriend for the very first time. _

 

_ Her own eyes were quick to prick with tears, her smile only growing brighter as she stroked her thumb over his cheek.  _

 

_ “I love you, too.” She whispered, leaning up to press her lips to his, the feeling of forever coursing through her veins as she held onto the only thing she had ever truly been sure of. _

 

_ Jughead. _

 

_ - _

 

_ Riverdale to Los Angeles, California _

 

_ It was one hell of a journey, but she’d do it all for him. She’d travel around the world and back again just to see him smile.  _

 

_ She was so proud of everything he had accomplished in the past three years. All his constant music writing and college work had lead right up to this moment. The moment where he would sign his very first record deal and begin producing his first album. An actual, physical album for the entire world to hear.  _

 

_ It was an odd feeling, knowing that soon enough his music would be out in the world for everyone else to hear, not just for her and their friends. She couldn’t wait for his inevitable success, because if anyone deserved to be rewarded for all of their hard work, it was Jughead.  _

 

_ They arrived in Los Angeles that afternoon, Jughead’s appointment to meet with his producers not scheduled until tomorrow morning. The two of them decided that instead of wasting the rest of the day in the hotel, they would get an Uber to Santa Monica Pier and watch the sunset together. Perhaps it was as cliche as it sounded, but neither of them cared. Cliches seemed to be their forte anyway. _

 

_ They walked along the pier together for a while, their hands entwined as they walked in a peaceful silence. She knew that Jughead was nervous about tomorrow’s meeting, although she also knew he had nothing to worry about at all. He was talented. More talented than anyone she had ever met, and the producers that were set to sign him tomorrow morning knew that, too.  _

 

_ Getting down onto the beach was easy, and once the couple found their spot, they were setting down the plaid patterned blanket that Betty had draped over her arm, and were soon sitting down with their toes buried in the sand. They had managed to arrive with 20 minutes before sunset, and it was safe to say that the air was getting a little chilly. With her hand in his, her knees tucked up to her chest and her head on his shoulder, the two of them looked out at the ocean’s lapping waves patiently.  _

 

_ She could feel the way his thumb slowly traced over her knuckles, a telltale sign of his nerves that she had picked up on over the years. She twisted her head slightly and pressed a kiss to his shoulder reassuringly, shifting to look up at him with a small smile.  _

 

_ “What’s up?” She whispered. His eyes were still trained on ocean, the relaxing sound of the waves crashing against the sand soothing. A gentle sigh leaving his lips as she spoke.  _

 

_ “Do you think they actually like what I’ve written,” he asked, although his eyes seemed distant. “I keep thinking, what if all of this is just a dream. What if I wake up tomorrow and none of this is real. I’m back in Riverdale, in that crappy old trailer, my parents arguing constantly and me with nowhere to go. What if I wake up tomorrow and I don’t have you?”  _

 

_ She was taken aback by his words, shifting a little to face him better.  _

 

_ “Where is all of this coming from, Jug. How could you think I’m not real,” She asked, her eyebrow quirking upwards in question.  _

 

_ “I’ve just been thinking a lot recently, that’s all,” he sighed, finally dragging his eyes away from the scenery to meet hers, his expression softening immediately. “And I’ve been thinking about how much it would kill me to lose all of this, to lose you. I don’t know how I’d cope.” His gaze was sincere and truthful, and she knew what he said was honest. She’d be lost without him, too.  _

 

_ “I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens. Whether you’re a big star or you’re just you, none of that matters to me. I fell in love with Jughead Jones and I will continue to love him as long as I live. Nothing will ever change that,” she promised, bringing her hand up to stroke his cheek reassuringly. “And, to answer your earlier question, yes. I think they’ll love your music. There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.”  _

 

_ Her sentiment made his heart pound heavily in his chest, his lips curving upwards from her kind words. “I’m not going anywhere either. I hope you know that,” he promised wholeheartedly. “No matter what happens, no matter how much I succeed or how much I fail, the one thing I’m sure about is you. I don’t care what happens tomorrow in that meeting, I don’t care what happens the next day, or the day after that, just as long as I have you.” _

 

_ She was certain that if her eyes could physically turn into heart, they would have in that instant. Her love for this man was undeniable. He was perfect in every sense of the word. “Jug,” she whispered. _

 

_ He shook his head instantly, the smile still ever present on his face as he moved from her side to perch on his knees in front of her. He didn’t care that his knees were digging into the sand, or that tiny grains of the stuff would probably be in his jeans for months, it was all about her. “I just want to talk for a moment. Like, I said, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I’ve been thinking about my life, about my future, our future, and I...well I wanted to ask you a couple of questions…” he trailed off with a sheepish smile.  _

 

_ “This all seems a little dramatic for just a couple questions. You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” she teased, laughing softly at the way his face fell. “I’m kidding,” she whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “Go on.” _

 

_ He breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to his previous smile, linking their fingers before continuing. “When I think about my future, there’s nobody I would rather be with than you. Everything I have planned out in my head, you’re there, every step of the way. I don’t want your life to be overshadowed by me though. I want you to live out your dreams, just like I am mine. I want to help you live out those dreams, because you’re my biggest inspiration. I want to spend my life with you, Betty, and after everything you’ve done for me, I should be so thankful for you to say yes to this…” _

 

_ His hand went for his back pocket as her eyes went wide, her hand coming to stop his arm momentarily as a nervous chuckle escaped her. “Jughead, are you proposing to me?” _

 

_ He couldn’t help but grin, moving to take the small velvet box from his pocket before shaking his head. “No, so don’t panic. We literally just turned twenty, I think your mom would come after me with a shotgun,” he smiled, relaxing at the loud laugh that escaped her. _

 

_ “Very true. So, what’s this?” _

 

_ “Patience is a virtue,” he quipped, carefully opening the box for her to reveal a gorgeous silver band, a small purple crystal planted on top. It was delicate and simple, nothing garish but also not boring.  _

 

_ “It’s not an engagement ring. It’s a promise, from me to you, to each other. I promise that I will love you until the grand old age of thirty when I die from sleep deprivation and a coffee overdose,” he joked, the two of them laughing as he leant in to press their foreheads together. “I promise that I will love you for as long as I live. I promise to do everything I can to make you happy, because every single day that I wake up knowing we belong to each other, I’m the happiest I will ever be. I promise that as long as I have you, I will never stop striving to be the best version of myself, because you bring out the best in me and without you I am not the same. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my life, Betty, and with this ring I promise that no matter what happens, my soul is joined with yours for eternity.” _

 

_ A short silence filled the space between them as they gazed at one another, their fingers still intertwined from earlier. She felt her heart soar from his speech, and for a while she was rendered speechless, her only response was the tears in her eyes that welled from the sheer amount of happiness and love she felt for him.  _

 

_ “I don’t know how you’re ever going to top that speech when you do propose,” she choked out, earning a soft laugh from him in response.  _

 

_ “It’ll be a novel of all the things I love about you.”  _

 

_ She ducked her head slightly, laughing as he brought his free hand up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I still haven’t asked my question,” he muttered softly. _

 

_ Her head lifted again as he spoke, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?”  _

 

_ “Move to New York with me?” he asked finally, hope in his eyes as he squeezed her hand carefully. “I found an apartment and it’s perfect. Two bedrooms, so your parents can come stay whenever, an office we can convert into a studio and your own writing room, a beautiful kitchen for you to bake, it’s everything we wanted.”  _

 

_ There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in her eyes as she nodded, a bright smile widening on her face as her nodding became more rapid. “Okay,” she agreed with a soft giggle. _

 

_ “Okay?” he questioned, his smile mirroring hers and hand cupping her cheek. “Just like that?” _

 

_ “Just like that.” _

 

_ He leaned in again, their lips coming together with joy and happiness radiating off of them. They were left in a bubble of their own, just basking in their love for each other for the rest of the evening, on that beach so far away from home. It was that day that she realised that home isn't Riverdale, home wasn’t New York, either. Home was with Jughead and wherever their crazy lives would take them. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if need be, because after all, their souls were joined for life. _

 

_ - _

Her hands clutched the steering wheel as her eyes travelled down to the ring that stood out so prominently to her now. She had never taken it off, not since the day he gave it to her and certainly not after they broke up. How could she, when it was the only thing she had left to tether herself to him.

 

His voice brought her attention back to the radio, and it was then that she also realised the tears streaming down her cheeks in rapid succession. She missed him. She missed the way he held her, the way he kissed her, the way his hands held her cheeks and the smile that lit up her face when he did. She missed the way it felt to hear him laugh, to listen to him let out sounds filled with such joy because of her. She missed the feeling of his fingers in her hair after a long day at work, his gentle voice whispering to her that he was proud. She missed his bear hugs, the tightness of his arms wrapped around her waist before picking her up and twirling her around. She remembered every single detail, every indent and flaw on his body, and how much she loved to trace her fingers over the three moles on his cheek. 

 

How could she live with herself when he was calling out to her like this. She needed to see him, but what was there to say?

 

Are you sober?

 

Do you still love me?

 

Did we mess this up beyond repair?

 

It was then that the bridge of his song sounded, and broke her entirely.

 

_**I miss your face** _

_**You’re in my head** _

_**There’s so many things that I should have said** _

_**A year of suffering, a lesson learned** _

 

Sobs wracked through her body and her legs came up to her chest for her to hug. Her mind screaming for him and the sound of his voice telling her that it would be okay. If she thought hard enough, she could feel his hand on her back and his lips just above her ear, whispering to her that it would be okay.

 

“How can any of this be okay? How can we fix this when I don’t even know where to start?” She cried out loud to no one. Nobody was there to hear her, but she hoped that somewhere out there, that maybe he would. 

 

The last note of his song rang out, leaving her in a perpetual state of sadness. His voice alone had brought back so many memories, she couldn't even comprehend where to start. 

 

He missed her. He had stated that clearly. He had even tried to reach out to her recently, and she had declined every call in fear they were drunk dials, but they weren’t. His voice was raw, but full of passion. His lyrics full of emotion, telling a story for everyone to hear, but the little details meant only for her. He had gotten his wish, she had heard the song, and now she missed him more than ever.

 

Before she could even begin to think about how this could play out, the radio presenter’s voice sounded through her car speakers again.

 

“And that is the new song,  _ December _ , from Jughead Jones. A long awaited comeback. It’s been over a year since we’ve heard anything from him, and then he drops this bombshell on us. Jughead actually came into the studio the other day to answer a few questions, and we have the recording to play for you now, but first, Dan, what do you think?” She asked her co-host.

 

“I think it’s great. You can tell it wasn’t a majorly produced song, very rough around the edges. It sounds more like a demo, but I think it was a great piece to come back on. Twitter has been blowing up with comments about this song, here’s just a few.”

 

_ “Oh my god, I just bawled for 20 minutes at Jughead Jones’ new song. Congratulations on breaking my heart.” _

 

_ “My heart just shattered into a million tiny pieces, December is amazing!” _

 

_ “Can someone please get Jughead Jones on their show and tell him off for emotionally stabbing me, but honestly I love the new song and can’t wait for more.” _

 

“It sounds like the fans have had a great response to the singer’s comeback, and if you had any questions about the angsty musician’s hiatus and comeback, then we’ve got answers from the man himself,”

 

\--

 

_ “Jughead, It’s so great to have you here. Thanks for coming on.” _

 

_ “Thank you for having me.” _

 

His voice brought a gasp from Betty’s throat, her hand resting over her chest in an attempt to calm herself down. She knew she had just heard him singing, but hearing him talk like normal made her feel as though he was in the car with her. She craved to have him back by her side.

 

_ “So, let’s talk about the song. This is something new for you altogether. You seem to be straying from your usual style, was that the intention?” _

 

_ “Not necessarily, I wasn’t really focused on trying to make a particular sound. It came out exactly how I planned in my head. It wouldn’t have worked upbeat. I wanted it to convey my feelings, and I think the roughness of the guitar captures that.” _

 

_ “Well I have to say, it’s definitely an emotional song. A lot of your fans have reacted extremely positively to this new chapter in your music career. We know you took a break from social media, but have you had a chance to look at what your fans are saying?” _

 

_ “I haven’t, I’m still taking a break, honestly. The song was less about the reaction, and more about trying to get my thoughts and opinions out into the world in the way I know best. I’ve had so many calls asking me to comment on things recently, but I thought this was the best way to get it out there.” _

 

_ “So does your break from social media mean your hiatus from music still ongoing?” _

 

_ “Essentially, yes. This song is rough, I’m sure anyone with ears can tell that. This isn’t me trying to dramatically announce a new album or anything, the song is what it is. A stand alone song with hidden meanings, sure, but nothing to follow. I don’t have anything else in the works at the moment, so, no word on anything new.” _

 

_ “You said you’ve been asked to comment on a lot recently, would that by any chance be the photos released of Betty Cooper?” _

 

_ “Yes,” his answer was simple and blunt, nothing else to it. _

 

_ “Is it safe to assume that the two of you have split?” _

 

There was a short pause this time, as if he was trying to conjure up his answer to the question, or perhaps it was courage he was trying to conjure.

 

_ “Yes,” he repeated again.  _

 

_ “And she is now dating Archie Andrews, one of your good friends?” _

 

_ A sigh left his lips, his frustration clear just from the question alone.  _

 

_ “I don’t know, I haven’t spoken to Betty or Archie in a year, but the photos look convincing.” _

 

_ “Okay then. So your song is based off a lot of your feelings surrounding your breakup, yes? You’ve been completely silent ever since, so why now? Why write this now and release it?” _

 

_ “I keep getting calls, getting constantly asked what I think about my ex and her new, supposed, boyfriend. I don’t have anything to comment, I wish her the best and I hope she’s happy wherever she is. I wanted to get my opinions out there without the answers being twisted. I wanted everyone to know, but I also wanted her to know. The song starts out with me being angry, like I was when I first saw the photos and when I first started writing the song, but in the end, I want her to be with whoever she is happiest with. I don’t resent her or her decisions, and I think it’s important for her to know that while I miss her, I will never stop loving her or hoping that she is where she wants to be in life.” _

 

_ “You said there’s hidden meanings in the song, is there any you’d like to elaborate on for some curious fans?” _

 

_ “They’re pretty personal, anyone who needs to know, will know.” _

 

_ “There were been photographs circulating of you earlier this year, and it was rumoured that you had a possible drinking problem. Is that something you feel comfortable talking about?” _

 

_ The pause was longer this time, no words leaving him for a short while. _

 

The last thing Betty expected to hear was Jughead open up about his addiction, and not that she would ever expect him too. She wanted to reach through the radio and slap the woman who had asked him these intrusive questions. She understood that people were curious as to where the song came from and what it was truly about, but trying to pry details from him was unforgivable. Especially when it came to such a sensitive subject. However, she was surprised by his answer once again, and her attention was brought back to the interview.

 

_ “To be quite honest, no, I don’t feel comfortable talking about it. I don’t think I ever will be. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I don’t want to go into it in great detail, but yes, I had a problem, had being the operative word. I realised what it did to me though, I realised what I had lost and then I got better. The journey is hard and is still a daily struggle, but I’m not dependant on it or on anything else. I have grown into a better version of myself, and while I am still paying the consequences for my actions, I’m grateful that I was able to overcome my addiction with the help of a great support network.” _

 

_ “It’s great to hear that you’re doing better. Overcoming addiction isn’t an easy thing to do.” _

 

_ “It’s not. I’m nowhere near over it, not yet at least. I struggle every single day, and writing this song was an escape from that difficulty. You have to be proud of your small achievements and not berate yourself for relapsing. It’s trial and error.” _

 

_ “Okay. We only have time for one more question. One of the lyrics in your song states that you hope the person you’re singing to hears the song on the radio. By the time this interview airs, we’ll have played your song. If that person is by any chance listening, what would you say to them?” _

 

_ “That I love her,” he replied instantly. “That I’ve always loved her, and I always will. She knows how I feel about her, so I don’t need to sit here and tell her what she already knows, but the song says it all. I didn’t expect our lives to pan out this way, and I miss her with my whole being, but I’m a better person than I was back then and I’m glad I had the chance to truly grieve my loses. I’d want her to know that as long as she is happy, I’m happy. I’d want her to know that I’m sober because I want her to be proud. And I’d tell her that my soul is joined with hers, for eternity.” _

 

_ “Well thank you for coming on Jughead, It was-” _

 

Betty zoned out immediately as he stopped talking, her whole body paralysed as she took in every last word. He loved her. He was sober. He wanted her to be happy. She was far from happy, in every sense of the word. She missed him, she needed him, she craved him. 

 

Furiously wiping the tears from her eyes, she set the car into gear and got back onto the road, only one destination in mind. It was now or never, and she wasn’t going to live another second without the love of her life. He was calling out to her, and this time she wasn’t about to decline the call.

 

\--

 

Jughead shut off the radio as soon as the interview finished, leaning back in the window seat with a quiet sigh. The interview was exactly as they had promised, no twisting of words, no editing his answers, just brutal honesty. He hoped that somewhere out there, Betty had heard everything he had said. He hoped that she knew, regardless of the interview, that he loved her. Their lives were tethered by their bond, and there was nothing he could ever do to break that, and he would never once consider it. 

 

He ached for her, for her closeness and her smile. Her laughter and her reassurance that came with everything he did. She was the light of his life and no matter how far they strayed, her brightness would never leave his mind. Maybe he could learn to live without her, but he certainly couldn’t learn to stop loving her.

 

His mind began to wander off to what their life was like prior to all of this mess. He remembered what it was like to wake up next to her every morning, her features highlighted by the early morning sun as it peaked through the blinds and caught her sun kissed cheeks. He remembered the feeling of her golden locks as he brushed back her hair with a happy sigh, basking in the warmth the morning brought in their small New York apartment.

  
  


He was dragged away from his thoughts by the soft knocking at his apartment door. He furrowed his eyebrows, a little confused, and sat up from the window seat. Nobody ever came to his apartment anymore. With his dad passing away, Betty leaving and his ongoing music hiatus, he had nobody to see, at least nobody he  _ wanted _ to see. Perhaps he should have been more concerned about who was waiting at the other side of the door, but the feeling in his gut told him that it was okay.

 

Without a second of hesitation, he unlocked his front door and opened it swiftly. His breath caught at the sight of her. His Betty. Her hair was tousled and windswept, smudged mascara beneath her eyes and her whole body was shaking with fear? Upset? Uncertainty? He was rendered speechless.

 

The two of them took a few moments to take in the moment, their eyes trained on each other and never once straying. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there in front of him. Betty was here, at his front door, eyes brimmed with tears as she stared at him so hopeful. 

 

He opened his mouth to speak, but her head was soon shaking to silence him.

 

“Let me talk,” she choked out, earning a quick nod from him and his lips clamping shut. “Did you mean it, everything you said in the interview?”

 

“You heard it?” He whispered incredulously.

 

She nodded quickly, her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly. “Yeah, and I heard your song...did you mean it?”

 

“Did I mean what?” he asked quietly, taking a half step towards her.

 

“All of it. That you still love me, that you miss me, that you’re sober?”

 

He nodded quickly at her questions, his own lips curling upwards. “All of it,” he promised. “I miss you more than I ever thought possible, it physically hurts me to be so far from you, even right now. I’ve been sober for six months, and while I can’t make any promises, this is the best I have felt in so long. I think I found a way to cope in music,” he explained to her before taking in a deep breath. “And…”

 

“And?” 

 

“And I love you.”

 

The tears spilled from her eyes finally, a soft sob escaping her as she took another step towards him. “The photos aren’t real,” she uttered softly. “I didn’t think you would actually believe them, Jug. They were all wrong. Hell, even one of them they cut out Veronica holding Archie’s hand, clear as day. It’s you, Jug, it’s only ever been you. It could never be Archie, how could it be? If I hadn’t have cried on him so much, he’d probably be too oblivious to even realise we had broken up.”

 

A soft laugh escaped him in return, a laugh full of love, relief and happiness. “You’re probably right there,” he whispered. “So, they’re not real?”

 

“Not in a million years,” she promised.

 

“And you still-”

 

“I love you. I love you, so much, Jughead. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel lost without you. I couldn’t be with you because of what you had become. A part of me died with you when you lost yourself, and I had to try and find myself again, just like you did. I found me, and you found you, and it feels like the universe is pulling us back together again. I can’t sleep without you there, I can’t laugh without looking to my side to laugh with you, too. I can’t be my whole self without you, Jug, because you’re half of me. How can I be whole without my other half?”

 

“I haven’t been whole since the day you walked out that door.”

 

“Neither have I. Today I realised that I am never going to stop loving you, even if I wanted to. I can’t live without you anymore.”

 

“Then don’t.”

 

“I missed you, so much.” Her words came out strangled as she took that final step towards him, her hands unsure of where to go now that they were so close. Her body was soon at ease though, as his hands came up to cup her cheeks reassuringly.

 

“I missed you, too. I can’t breathe without you, Betty. Thank you, for giving me oxygen again.”

 

In that instant, not a thing could stop the way they gazed at each other with such love, their lips coming together and the both of them melting into the connection within seconds. It was as if they had never been apart, the feeling of his lips on hers still such a familiar feeling, but at the same time it all felt so new, so full of passion and emotion as they moved together and welcomed themselves back home to one another.

 

There was nowhere he would rather be.

 

There was no one she would rather be with.

 

A lifetime of memories to continue as one.

 

-

 

The crowd should have been overwhelming to her, but after everything they had been through and after everything Jughead had strived to achieve, a sold out arena show was the least of her worries. This was a big night for him, a huge night, anyone with aspirations to become a musician knew how big this was. The feeling of the purest pride overwhelming her when they had arrived at the venue earlier today.

 

**Madison Square Garden**

**Jughead Jones - Tonight**

**Doors open at 6pm**

**Support Acts - 6:30 - 8:15**

**Main Act - 8:45 - 11pm**

**SOLD OUT**

 

She felt giddy just seeing the words. Jughead, her Jughead. He had come so far and today was the day that everything changed. Maybe she should have been worried, that this next step would change their whole dynamic. Bigger tours would be happening for extended periods of time, and with her job at the New York Times taking up the majority of her time, there was no way she could justify going along with him on tour.

 

Initially, she had been worried. Would they be able to survive such distance? Would they be able to overcome all the barriers that came with a long-distance relationship? Would he fall back into his old habits while away from her? Would she spiral in a pit of anxiety, waiting for the tabloids to expose him once again for his addiction?

 

But then something changed, something that would hold them in place infinitely.

 

“Jug, you’re on,” the stage director called through the headset.

 

Her eyes brightened up as he came rushing up the ramp to the side stage, the widest smile on his face as he leaned over to kiss her swiftly. Her hand came up to his cheek as her own lips mirrored his smile.

 

“Good luck,” she whispered excitedly. “Go blow their minds.”

 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

 

“Just once or twice,” she teased, pecking his lips again before pulling away to watch him head out onto centre stage.

 

The crowd erupted into cheers, screams and shouts, and she couldn’t help but smile out at him as he began to play the opening notes to the title track from his third album.  _ Joined Souls. _

 

She sighed to herself happily as she looked out at him, her hand travelling down to her other as she began to twirl around the ring on her left hand. The ring that replaced a promise that was made many years ago, and replaced with a new one. 

 

Yeah, things would definitely be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated infinitely


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